When You Said Forever What You Really Meant Was
by EverShadow
Summary: Sometimes relationships aren't as solid as we want them to be. And sometimes it takes time to figure out what "forever" really means.


When You Said Forever (What You Really Meant Was...)

You whispered "forever" to me at graduation. You said "forever" like it was so easy to believe so I believed you. Even though I was headed to New York and you to California, forever meant forever. We'd just graduated, we had both gotten into colleges, we were on top of the world. You danced on stage when they presented you with your diploma, when they announced "And here is your class president, Brittany Susan Pierce!" I cheered for you. I could not imagine life without you and you pulled me close, so close that our caps bumped and yours fell off and you kissed me right in front of everyone else. I didn't care. And when you pulled away you whispered "I'll love you forever."

It was a glorious summer. We traveled up to Canada because you liked the cold (odd then that you would go to sunny California.) We went to bars, got kicked out of bars and always, always wound up back at the hotel with you on top sometimes and me on top the others, a mess of giggles, of sweat, skin, sex, love. And you said to me then "I wish we could be like this forever."

We went to college after that blissful summer. We skyped every day, called and texted when we weren't near any computer. You'd always wave and smile and blow kisses and your roommate would make fake gagging noises. I hated my roommate. She was always too cheerful, too bright, too _you_ yet not you at all. And you would always say that word right before we hung up. That "f" word that I trusted, that I clung to.

It was November our sophomore year. I could tell your interest waned with every minute I stayed in New York yet whenever I brought up the idea of transferring, you always turned me down.

"New York is like...your home." You insisted. But every time I saw you on the computer screen, your smiles were rarer and you hung up too early. It was November of our sophomore year when you broke up with me.

"I can't do this, San." You whispered one day. "I can't be this far away from you. It's too hard." I cried. I turned the computer away so you wouldn't see me cry. Maybe if I had let you see the pain you caused, maybe you would've stayed. But I didn't. I muted the mic and turned the computer away. When I turned it back, you'd hung up and left me just a small message.

_"I'm sorry. But...we're friends forever, right?"_

I started dating my old roommate, you know, the one who looked just like you, acted just like you, laughed just like you? I knew it was pathetic, and I knew she was just a rebound but it felt good just to close my eyes and pretend that it was you again. It wasn't long before I broke up with her. Every now and again I would see you on Facebook, well, your statuses. _Brittany is single. Brittany is in a relationship and it's complicated. Brittany is in a relationship_. You never specified who and when I saw the changes, I wanted to throw my computer across the room.

I joined theater, caught an interest in producing and directing and started going out with one of the costume designers. She was pretty, a little short, brunette and quiet; the exact opposite of you. I knew what it was, it was trying to forget that you existed at all. She was nice, sweet, and a good second girlfriend. There was no drama, I was out in college in a spectacular way and our relationship was all the unspectacular that I wanted.

I visited you just once after we broke up. I went to California as part of a class trip to see how Hollywood worked. We were right near where you were studying so I called you up. My heart pounded so heavily, I thought I was going to die. You picked up, said a surprising "hi?" as if you did not know who I was. Maybe you'd erased me from your phone, something I did not do.

"Hey, Brit." I could practically hear your breath hitch in your throat. "It's me, Santana...I was in town...and I was wondering if you wanted to meet up." I hoped you meant it when you said that we were friends forever.

"S-sure." You replied. "I'm not on campus right now, but if you want you can meet me at the main entrance for dinner or something." Casual, I thought, as if you didn't break my heart at all. As if we'd never dated. You gave me the address and I met you there at the specified time. And you showed up, leaner, taller because of your heels and slightly tanner than I remembered you. But you smiled that goofy smile and it was like I'd never forgotten how to love you.

We went to dinner at your favorite spot and I struck up an awkward conversation. The soda tasted bitter in my mouth as I drank it and the food was bland and tasteless. But you looked like you were enjoying yourself. And then you asked,

"So how's your girlfriend?" Those words struck a nerve.

"We're probably breaking up soon. She's no one special." Contrary to that, I'd told my girlfriend that I loved her more than anyone I'd ever loved. But sitting in front of you made me realize how much of that was bullshit. You were the one I loved more than anyone. You smiled, as if you were satisfied with my answer, as if you knew what kind of hold you had on me.

"And how's your boyfriend?" I asked.

"He's good." You replied, dipping a french fry in ketchup casually. "He's taking me up to Canada next week." The hairs rose on my neck. Canada was our place, that was where we went the summer we graduated. Had you forgotten?

"That's good." I said, swallowing my resentment.

"I'm glad you called me." You said. "We haven't talked in a while." _In a while_, the words made it seem like we'd parted on amicable terms, like she'd been waiting for me to call her up and beg for her back. "I haven't seen you in forever. You look good." No, you haven't seen me _in a while_, forever was what you promised me.

I don't know why but I wound up going back with you to a party. Perhaps the lure of booze convinced me, maybe it was the shred of hope that we could rekindle something, anything whether it was friendship or more. After the third drink, I was ready to drop my girlfriend for you if you so much as hinted at it.

Instead, you pulled me into a closet, ironic really, and kissed me like you had really missed me. I could taste the tequila on your tongue and I knew exactly what kind of drunk you were. And I knew that somewhere back in New York, my girlfriend was patiently waiting for me to text her and that your boyfriend was probably searching the rooms for you. But I didn't care. I had you for a brief fifteen minutes, with my hands on you like they'd never left your body in the first place. I still knew how to make you scream, and you still knew exactly how to touch me.

We didn't talk for years after that time. And it served as a reminder of how fragile your version of forever was. I think we both broke up with our girlfriend/boyfriend after that. I didn't say anything about what happened in Cali, and I didn't know if you did either. I saw you at our high school reunion, alone like me. When our eyes met, you smiled, brightly as ever and walked over just as Finn and Puck chest bumped for the first time since graduation.

"Hey." You said, holding a glass of wine in one hand.

"Hey yourself." Short hair suited you. I was surprised by how even years after I thought I'd gotten over you, I still wanted you. "No hot guy in tow?" You laughed.

"No." You replied. You looked gorgeous and when we went out by the bleachers, the place where we'd first kissed you said,

"You remember what happened here?" You rapped the cheap aluminum lightly with your knuckles. I knew exactly what you meant, but I tried to play it coy and cool.

"Finn jizzing his pants for the first time during our halftime performance and the whole team making fun of him?" You didn't laugh. On the contrary, you looked somewhat hurt. You grabbed my hand and kissed me hard and I ran my fingers through your short blond hair. It was like high school again, and I was pretty sure that below the bleachers, Quinn was having sex too, it sure sounded like her voice but you took me in and didn't let me go.

I chain smoked for ten years after that. You dropped off the face of the earth. I had no idea whether you were married, single, had kids, had died. I was too busy trying to make my life a livable one. The first time I saw you again, you were on TV. You were a model, go figure. You shot some commercial for summer clothes and I stopped in the middle of Time Square to stare up at the large screen and see as they enhanced your blue eyes with eyeliner, nit-picked at the garments they threw on you and made mental notes of the way they filmed you from flattering angles. You were doing well for yourself and I was too.

I missed our second high school reunion but I was present for our third. You wore a gleaming diamond on a gold band on your finger and I wore nothing like it. You waved to me from across the room, the metal and stone catching the light bouncing off the cheap disco ball and I smiled back. After Puckerman started stripping (surprise, surprise) I decided to go outside for some fresh air.

The Lima November night was colder than I remembered and I looked up at the stars as I ascended the bleachers. I should've paid more attention to walking because my foot caught on the edge of one of the seats and I stumbled. But you were there to catch me.

"Careful." You said, holding me up by my arm. I picked myself up and sat down.

"Following me?" I asked with a forced laugh. You smiled and sat next to me.

"It was too hot in there." You replied. I glanced down at her hand where the ring was. You noticed. "He proposed a week ago."

"That's nice." I lied. _If I was your friend, you would've told me._

"I wanted to tell everyone in person." You explained your actions but I laughed in your face and you looked like I had hit your or kicked you in some way. "Santana..."

"I kept thinking..." I said. "What it would've been like if we'd been in the same state. If we would've stayed together." You reached over and took my hand but I could feel the ring and I pulled my hand away. It had taken me over a decade to say that to your face. We had never discussed the "what ifs" of our relationship. "You promised me forever." I didn't expect you to hear that last part. I said it to myself under my breath. But I suppose the breeze must've carried my voice or amplified or something because you reached over and took my hand again. The stars were ever endless and time crawled when I was with you. I looked up into your eyes and you just smiled knowingly at me, as if you understood my pain and knew just what to say.

"This," you said, squeezing my hand, providing the only warmth in the chilly night. "This is our forever."

_Fin_


End file.
